Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to
Harry Potter in reality. I only own Harry Potter in my dream world.
in the real world, all HP stuff are owned by J.K.Rowling.

This fic will contain
slash (yay!) if you don't like slash, then don't read it!
don't complain to me

a/n: this fic is AU, no magic! I know this idea
isn't original, but I felt like writing it, even though there are a
gazillion other fics out there like this...please read still

Chapter One

Harry Potter yawned as he listened to his alarm
clock buzz. "Aurgh..."he grumbled. 6:00 am was definitely to
early to get up.

Sitting in his bed for five minutes, Harry finally
got out and walked sleepily to the shower. "Oorf!" he yelped as
he was slammed into the wall.

"Good morning Potty-head." the fat blob with
blonde hair said. Harry glared at his cousin Dudley who was his age.
Dudley was one of the jocks in school, and was already ready, dressed
in his sport jacket, hair styled, and sports bag in hand. Dudley
always went to school in his car with some cheerleaders and the other
football players.

"Leave me alone," Harry mumbled, rubbing his
arm and going into the bathroom and locking the door. Sighing, he
stepped into the shower.

He had lived with the Dursley's since his
parents had abandoned him when he was younger. His mother left him on
her sister's doorstep. While his parents were out enjoying their
lives, Harry was stuck in a family that hated his guts.

In fact, Petunia and Vernon had only agreed to
adopt Harry because the local social worker, Dolores Umbridge, forced
them to.

After ten minutes, Harry was back in his small
bedroom. He pulled on his black worn-out sweatshirt, his baggy old
black cargo pants, and his falling apart sneakers. He looked at
himself in the mirror – he looked like the misfit he was. No one
liked him in school, since he was the 'gothic-oner' who drew all
the time.

Sighing at his appearance, he quickly picked up
his worn-out back pack which held his two sketchbooks and all of his
pencils.

Hurriedly, Harry got downstairs before his aunt
could yell at him. Snatching a piece of bread from the fridge, Harry
left through the front door and walked to the bus stop. Dudley may
have a car, but Harry didn't, and Dudley hated Harry, so he would
never offer Harry a ride.

Just as he reached the stop, the bus came.
Climbing on, Harry received glares from his fellow students. He
ignored them, and sat down in the front seat, jamming his old
headphones in his ear.

--------------------

Harry made his way to his locker quickly. He knew
if he hung around too long in one place, he would be an easy target.

On his way to his locker, he passed a group of
students. On of them, a boy with red hair, stuck his foot out as
Harry passed, causing the black haired boy to trip.

"Watch where you're going, Potter," the red
head said, smirking. A brown haired girl laughed meanly, as did the
rest of the group. Harry just glared, and gathered up his school bag.

"Fuck off," he hissed through gritted teeth.
The group stopped laughing, and frowned. A small red haired girl, who
looked like she might be related to the boy, spoke up.

"Now now, don't be a
potty-mouth, Potter," she retorted, causing the group to
burst into laughter again. Harry just shrugged it off and continued
to his locker.

Gathering his books for Latin, Harry rushed to his
first class. He arrived early as usual. So, he sat down and took out
his green sketchbook and some pencils. Absorbed into his drawing, he
didn't even notice other people file into the classroom until a
shadow fell over his drawing.

Looking up, ready to be defensive in case of an
attack, Harry was surprised to see a boy he didn't know. The boy
had silver eyes and blonde hair. He was wearing a dark forest green
shirt that almost looked black, and black pants and boots. It was
obvious all of his clothes were expensive..

"What do you want?" Harry asked bitterly. He
was just being cautious, since people were always picking on him. The
new boy however, looked taken aback.

"Nothing," he drawled, "I was going to
compliment your drawing, but if you're gonna act like that, then
never mind." And with that, he turned on his heel and sat down in
the seat in front of Harry (who sat in the back).

A couple of minutes later, Ms. McGonagal came in.
"Good morning, class," she announced, "We have a new student
this year. Mr. Draco Malfoy, if you would please come up here." The
blonde boy stood up and walked to the front of the classroom. The
teacher continued to talk about him, and that he transferred from
England. If Harry had been looking, he would've noticed that the
blonde looked only at him, but Harry was busy drawing. (a/n: this
story takes place in America. don't ask me why!)

Great, the
raven-haired boy thought, One more person to make my life hell.
The Latin class continued, and Harry kept drawing as he always did.
He never needed to pay attention - he always got decent grades.
However, even the teachers loved picking on him-

"Mr. Potter!" Minerva yelled. Everyone turned
to look at Harry, including Draco. Harry's head shot up, and he
quickly put away his sketchbook.

"Yes?" he asked, dreading what would come.
Minerva frowned, and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Mr. Potter, if you could please tell me what
the ablative case is used for in the first declension in Latin?"
she asked, her voice cold and angry. Harry looked thoughtful for a
second.

"I dunno, professor," he finally said. This
infuriated McGonagal, something Harry was good at doing.

"Well then, Mr. Potter, I suggest you pay
attention instead of drawing god-knows-what in that silly book of
yours," she scolded. The class snickered at Harry, and turned back
to face the board, except for Draco, who hadn't even snickered. His
eyes lingered on Harry, who had taken out his sketchbook again, and
was back to drawing. Eventually, the blonde turned around, much to
Harry's relief. He didn't like the feeling he got when those
silver eyes were upon him.

------------

Latin finally ended. The rest of the day went by
quickly, and it was eventually time for lunch. Harry was making his
way down the hall, when an all too familiar voice stopped him,
calling his name.

He turned around groaning. He knew that voice. Tom
Riddle, a senior, the richest kid in school, also head of his own
clique – the "punk-rocker" wannabes. (a/n: I hate people that
pose as punk rockers :coughavrillavignecough: )

(random a/n: in this story, Harry's a junior)

Sure enough, he turned to face the purple-haired,
pierced to an oblivion Tom, with his best friend Bella.

"What?" Harry snapped, annoyed. Tom and Bella
just smirked. Dudley may not be Harry's favorite person, but he was
an angel compared to Tom and Bella. Especially since Tom seemed to
have some bizarre obsession with Harry.

"My dear Harry, aren't you happy to see us?"
Tom asked with feigning hurt. Bella just smirked, and exchanged a
look with Tom, who nodded. Bella returned the nod, and walked away.
Tom began to move toward Harry, who in turn backed up.

"I'm never happy to see anyone, Riddle,
especially you," Harry spat. Tom's smirk grew as he continued to
move toward Harry, who finally backed up into a wall.

"That hurt, Potter, that hurt real bad,"
Riddle said, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Suddenly, he had a pocket
knife in his hand. Harry gulped when he saw the light glint off the
dangerous piece of metal. "You draw too much, ya know? Artists get
on my nerves Potter. I think we'll have to do something about
that," he said. Suddenly he pushed Harry's head against the wall
with his free hand, pulling Harry's hair out of his face as he did
so. Tom then took the knife and ignored the struggling boy. He then
traced a small lightning bolt on Harry's forehead, above his right
eyes. Harry let out a small whimper as the cut began to bleed.

"Take that as a warning for cheeking me,
Potter," Riddle hissed before he released the smaller boy and
walked away. Harry just stood there for a minute, then went to the
bathroom to wash the cut.

He didn't even notice the blonde behind the door
of a deserted classroom.

-----------

Harry once again made his way to the lunchroom,
the freshly made cut cleaned out. He walked over to his normal table
after buying some food.

Harry always sat alone and drew (duh!) so he was
surprised when someone sat across from him. He looked up to see the
blonde again.

"Hello," the blonde
said, "My name's Draco." Harry just nodded and went back to
drawing waiting for the insults to start. Draco sighed impatiently,
and tapped the boy's shoulder. Harry looked up, slightly confused.
Does someone actually want to talk to me? he thought
hesitantly.

"Erm, I'm Harry," he finally said, unsure of
what to do. This was the first time anyone actually paid any
attention to him without torturing him. Draco smiled, and Harry
cautiously smiled a small smile back.

"So what're you drawing?" Draco asked
curiously. Harry held up his sketchbook for Draco to see – it was
an anime boy, looking out a window sadly.

"Whoa. That's - wow. You're a good artist,"
Draco said, making Harry blush. No one had ever complimented him
before.

"Thanks," he said. Draco opened his mouth to
say something else, when a pug-faced girl screeched across the
cafeteria.

"Oh my gosh!
Someone's sitting with Pot-head!!!" an ugly junior named Pansy
Parkinson screeched, loud enough for everyone to hear. The students
burst out laughing.

Draco closed his eyes, as
though annoyed. Blaise Zabini, another junior came up to him, and
glared at Harry. "It's ok, Draco. You're new here. You don't
know that Potter is vermin and should be avoided. You can sit
with my friends," Blaise said. Harry glared at him, but shrugged
and went back to drawing.

Maybe on the outside, Harry
looked like he could care less, but inside, Harry was torn up. This
was the first time someone actually was nice to him, and Harry had
liked it. Now, Draco would realize his mistake, and torture Harry
like the rest of the school. Harry willed himself not to cry.

Draco just looked at Blaise coldly. "I'd
prefer to sit with Harry, thank you," he answered. Harry looked up
in surprise, and smiled shyly. Draco returned it.

Blaise was furious. "Fine!" he shouted, "Be
a gothic loner too!" And with that he stomped away to Pansy,
muttering angrily.

Draco just rolled his eyes and muttered something
that sounded like "Drama-queen." Harry snorted softly, which
caused Draco to smile at him.

They ate silently, Harry continuing to draw and
Draco watching him. Finally, Draco broke the silence. "So, I guess
you are not that popular here?" he asked curiously. Harry snorted,
and a bitter look crossed his face.

"You guessed correctly.
I'm the main entertainment for this school, no matter what year.
Everyone just loves to pick on the 'Potter Boy'," he
said, trying to make it sound as though he could care less about the
subject. But Draco could see that it hurt the boy, and he felt angry
that people would pick on Harry.

"Well, now they can have two people to talk
about," Draco answered, smiling warmly at Harry, who smiled feebly
back.

"You know," Harry began
softly, "I've never had a friend before." He mentally cursed
himself. Geez Potter, you're so stupid! Someone starts being
nice to you and you get all mushy, he thought. He looked down and
expected Draco to burst out laughing.

But he didn't. Draco just
looked at the boy with his silver eyes. "I know how that feels,"
he replied. Harry looked up, and they stared at each other for a bit.
Finally, the bell rang, signaling 7th period.

Harry gathered up his sketch book and art
supplies, as Draco waited for him. They walked to their lockers
together (they had lockers near each other it turned out) and talked
about what music they liked.

"Well, I don't know much American music yet,"
Draco admitted. Harry just nodded.

"Well, Linkin Park and Good Charlotte are always
good groups," Harry said, "If you want, er, you can come over and
listen to them today," he shyly suggested, unsure of how Draco
would react (remember, this is his first friend!)

Draco looked happy at the thought. "I would love
to! That would be so wicked!" he replied.

They were so absorbed in their conversation,
neither noticed that a certain purple-haired and pierced to an
oblivion boy was watching Harry, disapproval, jealousy, and anger
glinting dangerously in his eyes.